


When the World Gets Too Heavy

by sciamachy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Shotgunning, Shotgunning Smoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciamachy/pseuds/sciamachy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, it all lays forgotten.</p><p>Written for SNK Kink prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the World Gets Too Heavy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eremin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eremin/gifts).



> Prompt from SNK Kink Meme: Eren/Armin. shotgunning smoke.

  
  
  
The first time they saw it was way back in Shiganshina.  
  
Some of the few nameless officers stationed near the gate always has this small stick of white in their hand. It's a curious little thing, thinner than a finger but longer, lit up on one end as lips enclose on the other.   
  
When observing wasn't enough anymore, Eren started to ask. He asks Mikasa and gets a shrug, with his father he gets a disapproving shake of the head, and when he brings up the question to his mother, he gets an earful of lecture of what is bad and inappropriate.  
  
But Eren still doesn't know what it is.  
  
So he gets up one afternoon, leaving Mikasa behind with his mother (if it's something bad and inappropriate, he doesn't want Mikasa involved at all) and sets out to hunt down his bestfriend, Armin.  
  
They talk about it, Eren describing what he notices and Armin formulates theories of what it possibly is or does. They roam the market, keeping watch of the stalls where many men and a few women takes out enough money to buy packs of their current object of fixation.  
  
They stay a safe distance away though, realizing early that no children, because that's what they are, are allowed to come near it. The two of them contents themselves to scrawling and sketching the littlest of details in the margin of whatever book Armin manages to sneak out.  
  
In the end, it lays temporarily forgotten in the ruins of Shiganshina.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
The second time they see it happens inside the training grounds.  
  
It's way past midnight, the lighting of the nearby tower just enough to prevent them from fumbling their way in complete darkness. The barracks are quiet, most trainees deep in their sleep in preparation for tomorrow.  
  
Eren and Armin are the ones who are still awake. They sneak quietly through the field, making their way to the posts where the 3D gears are located.  
  
Eren has every intention of training alone but Armin, despite whatever reasoning he uses to keep the other from coming, insists on going with him. Soon he gives up, letting the other tag along because having someone beside him isn't so bad, especially still if it's Armin. He never wins whenever the two of them argues anyway.  
  
They immerse themselves soon after, practicing proper positions on ground and in air with the familiar sounds of wires stretching and being taut. That is, until the first sound of a lighter being used and the small beacon of fire comes from just a few steps away.  
  
They both freeze, knowing that they are visible enough from that distance, and waits for the reprimanding voice of an officer. It doesn't come though, instead they see a fellow trainee walking up to them, grinning and a familiar lit stick on hand.  
  
"Hey," the trainee moves, holding the stick to his mouth and inhales deep, "That's some dedication, huh?" He exhales, a cloud of smoke coming out and further obscuring his face in the darkness.  
  
Eren and Armin look at each other, shrugs, and starts putting away the gears.  
  
"Do you mind if I ask something?" Eren steals furtive glances at the stick as he tucks his shirt properly, curiosity in his eyes and being curiouser. Armin stays silently fidgeting beside him.  
  
"Nah, what is it?" The trainee waves his free hand, "Fire away, we might not live long enough to ask or answer."  
  
Eren smiles sardonically, gestures to the thing on the other's hand, "What is that?"  
  
The guy is surprised, amusement tingeing his features. Armin continues to stay silent.  
  
"This?" He brings his hand up, showing the other two the stick that shrinks as seconds pass by, ashes trailing down from the lit end. "This is the best way to die."  
  
"What?" Eren takes a half step back, unnerved.   
  
Armin does the opposite. He leans in a little closer, eyes focusing on the thing. "What does it do? What is it?"  
  
The other chuckles, the place silent enough that it rings loudly in their ears.  
  
"It's a cigarette, cheaper stuff than those tobacco that only the wealthy could afford. Full of nicotine that you inhale slowly from the provided filter here." He flips the cigarette, showing the brown side that was unlit and lightly shining with spit. "You puff, deep enough so it goes to the lungs and you will feel better."   
  
He does it, exhales another round of thick smoke. This close, an unpleasant smell pass through both of their nostrils.  
  
"It's addictive. Bad for the health though, staves of a few years in life. Not that it will matter in the long run." He grins.  
  
Eren is confused. Intrigued, but confused. How can a small stick of cigarette do that?   
  
"You guys want to try?"  
  
Eren looks at Armin and sees the contemplative expression on the other's face. He knows that one. It means that he wants to try but at the same time, afraid enough to decline the offer.  
  
And that is where he steps in.  
  
The guy claps his shoulder, generously handing him a lighter and an opened pack with enough sticks for four. "That's all yours."   
  
"But what about you?"  
  
"Don't mind it," the guy leans in and fake whispers, "I've got a lot back on my bunk. Careful to not be seen, alright?"  
  
When Eren nods, the trainee grins approvingly before waving his goodbye. He leaves the two of them in the semi-darkness with an opportunity on their hands.  
  
They didn't take it on that night. They bury it underneath all of their belongings, out of sight and out of mind.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
The third time, Eren sees it in the hands of a shaking Armin.  
  
"Armin..."  
  
His friend looks up to him, eyes full of tears but his cheeks are dry. He was crouching in an alley, between the walls of a ruined bakery and a nearly demolished apartment building.  
  
Armin looked dirty, devastated and covered in grime and blood that wasn't his. He, with torn clothes and own blood running down his temples and limbs, looks far worse. But he expects this, he is ready for the trauma that Eren so desperately wants to save Armin from.  
  
"Hey," Eren speaks softly, a strained smile on his face. Behind him, the sound of a gas tank goes off, Mikasa leaving the two of them behind. She's always been the most intelligent, the most sensitive between the three of them no matter how indifferent she looks.  
  
"I want to try, Eren." Armin grits his teeth in frustration, "I need to but I can't!" Self-loathing fills his eyes and somehow, Eren knows they weren't talking about simple cigarettes any more.  
  
He steps closer and kneels down, unmindful of the bruises that protests at the action. He doesn't look away, neither does Armin even as he takes the tightly clenched fist of the shorter boy in his grasp. He slowly tries to pry away Armin's fingers one by one, releasing the pack of cigarettes and the lighter from the tight hold.  
  
Keeping their gazes locked, Eren unhurriedly lights one and puts the stick in between of Armin's middle and fore finger. He brings the hand to his face, lips closing over the filter and he inhales.  
  
Eren closes his eyes, feels the burn of smoke down his throat to his chest and the warmth of Armin's palm against his cheek.  
  
He releases his breath as his eyes open, staring at Armin through the cloud of smoke in the few inches that separates their faces. Those eyes had never looked clearer than this moment.  
  
"You don't have to, Armin. I'll always be here to do the tougher things for you." Eren smiles.  
  
"Eren..." Armin looks down, fringe covering his eyes. Eren could feel the slight tremors the courses through the smaller boy through the hand that was pressed to his face.  
  
"Armin," Eren lightly panics, "Armin, hey, don't cry."  
  
"I'm not crying!" But the quality of his voice indicates otherwise.  
  
"You wanted to try that badly, huh?" Eren prompts but doesn't wait for an answer. He takes the cigarette from Armin, making the other look up, and spares a second to see the tears making it's way down from upset blue eyes.  
  
He takes a deep drag, enough to threaten to choke him, and throws the cigarette away. He keeps his lips shut but it curves to a cheeky smile as he cups Armin's face before pressing their lips together.  
  
Armin own lips automatically parts, letting out a surprised gasp that Eren takes advantage of. He blows inside, releasing something warm and addictive until Armin involuntarily inhales and swallows.  
  
They don't part even after Armin exhales back, trails of smoke wafting up from the spaces in their pressed lips. Neither of them closes their eyes and Eren watches as a flush starts spreading through pale cheeks, guessing correctly that a matching one was present on his own.   
  
They are still mouth to mouth, no more excuse of cigarette smoke between them, just plain breaths mingling with one another. A hesitant gleam enters Armin's eyes and Eren is confused until he feels the softest flick of something warm and wet against his bottom lip.  
  
He blinks in surprise, moves not to part but to tilt his head so their lips are pressing together more comfortably and closer. He copies Armin and soon, they both have their eyes shut, tongues dancing and sliding together in heat.  
  
Eren pushes Armin closer to the wall, the sturdy bricks pressing to Armin's back and unyielding underneath Eren's palms serves as a reminder that they weren't alone, that the world will not stop for them.  
  
Eren reluctantly moves away, staring at Armin with bated breath as the other unflinchingly looks back.   
  
It's at these moments that Eren is reminded that Armin can be the stronger one. While he falters, Armin is there to catch him with unwavering gazes and words of steel. This is where the strength of the smaller boy lies.  
  
When Armin smiles, Eren almost breathes out a sigh of relief.  
  
They both dust themselves off, cheeks red and lips a little swollen but newfound courage and inspiration deep under their skin. They fix their gears, checks the capacity of their gas tanks and nodding their okays to one another.  
  
"Mikasa has worried enough, right?" Eren grins wide, rubbing dirt from Armin's chin that has the smaller boy blushing again.  
  
"Yeah. Let's go back, Eren." Armin takes hold of the other's hand, giving a tight squeeze before letting go.  
  
The cigarettes lay forgotten on the ground, among dust and ashes.  
  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
  


 


End file.
